


spit taste just like juicy fruit

by yourobdtst



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, M/M, Spit Kink, and brief appearance from johnny, explicit condom usage because even stupid college boys practice safe sex, its pretty mild i think but there is excessive spit honestly, just a couple guys being dudes, saliva is constantly mentioned, they're kinda soft for each other but thats gay dont point it out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:28:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29120478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourobdtst/pseuds/yourobdtst
Summary: “Why are you showering.”“Because I didn’t last night? And you want to—” Mark makes a crude gesture with his hands. “So I kind of wanted to, like, not stink?”“But I like it when you stink.” Yangyang deadpans.“What—fuck, I—sorry?”“It’s okay, I guess.” Yangyang says mildly, very thoroughly glancing up and down Mark’s dripping wet and stark naked body. “You’re hot as fuck, man. Hurry up, I’ll be in your bedroom sniffing your boxers.”
Relationships: Mark Lee/Liu Yang Yang
Comments: 51
Kudos: 342





	spit taste just like juicy fruit

**Author's Note:**

> hey it's me. becca. back at it again with the bullshit
> 
> i have recently been afflicted with yangyangism, which is incurable. i ask for your understanding at this time. yangyang is simply very sexy and there is nothing i can do about it except for make him fuck mark lee in the ass
> 
> as you may have noticed from the tags, this fic gets a little wet. nothing too severe, i think, but saliva is very thoroughly and consistently utilized as a sexual device here, so if that's not your thing, that's okay, this fic isn't for you then. markyang also explicitly, in text, use a condom, so if that's also not your thing, that's fine too, because this is fanfic and fanfic is not real. please do use condoms in real life tho! also yangyang is uncircumcised here for no reason other than this is my fic and i said so. mark is cut tho
> 
> title from slumber party by ashnikko. stream demidevil

_u busy today ?_

Mark groans sharply as his phone screen lights up directly in his face, vibrating against his cheek from where he fell asleep listening to ASMR face measuring videos out loud. He fumbles with it, eyes squeezed nearly closed, dazedly trying to lower the brightness before his eyes burn out of their sockets. He succeeds, more or less, eyes watery as he squints to decipher the text without his glasses.

He rolls his eyes when he does, irritated that the very thing that woke him up on his day off is _someone asking if he has the day off_. He double taps the message to open the conversation, sends back what he thinks might say _No plans why_ , since he can’t really see the keyboard all that well, and hopes they aren’t trying to _make_ plans with him. It’s Tuesday, so he has no class, and by divine intervention, he also has no shift at work, and he’s thoroughly looking forward to ignoring the pile of responsibilities on his desk for just a day before he goes back to being stressed non-stop about finals.

He squints again, at the time, before shoving his phone under his pillow. It’s already two in the afternoon, and at this point, nothing is getting him out of bed until dinner. 

But his phone vibrates again, and Mark huffs. He considers ignoring them, but feels a flash of embarrassment at how rude that would be when everyone knows full well his parents raised a much more considerate son, and throws one hand out to reach for his bedside table, whacking haphazardly in search of his glasses while he uses the other hand to scrub the sleep crust out from the corners of his eyes.

Once the glasses are located, and more or less secured on his face, he reaches back under the pillow to unearth his phone again, and it buzzes _again_ once he does. He sighs. 

_ur roommate home ??_ The first text reads.

_i’m off today too haha sooooo_ Says the next.

Mark’s whole body jerks, suddenly wide awake as he registers for the first time who’s actually texting him. Mark’s dick twitches in his briefs just reading his name at the top of the chat, and he rolls onto his front to idly grind into this bed and foster the feeling of it filing out. It’s Yangyang.

_He’s at work_ , he types to reply, but doesn’t send. He has a brief idea—it makes his cheeks flare instantly, suddenly shy that he could even come up with something like this on his own, fearing judgement for no reason, anxious that someone other than Yangyang will know and he’ll never live the embarrassment down. Fuck, It was embarrassing enough when his roommate, Johnny, even _found out_ about Yangyang in the first place.

_“Yangyang?” Johnny had asked incredulously. “Like, Ten’s little brother Yangyang?”_

_“I don’t think they’re actually related,” Mark muttered in reply, suddenly very interested in picking at his cuticles. Johnny had more or less caught him heading out—meaning, Mark tried to leave without Johnny seeing, and Johnny had casually asked where Mark was headed as he attempted to tiptoe past the kitchen. But Mark and his complete inability to tell even the barest hint of a lie had meant he spilled the entire fuckbuddy situation he had going on with Johnny’s ex’s friend right there onto the kitchen linoleum with next to no prompting from his roommate. Mark really could have just said “Class,” or “Donghyuck’s,” or fucking “The corner store,” but he was an idiot, and Johnny had stared at him like he just admitted to arson._

_Then he was silent for a moment. And then: “No,” he acquiesced, “they’re not. But like, Ten’s little brother the same way you’re_ my _little brother, man.”_

_Mark’s eyes flickered to Johnny’s face, eyebrows pinched. “Is it, like, not okay? That it’s him?”_

_Johnny opened his mouth, then closed it, then sighed through his nose, leaning back against the counter. “No, it’s okay,” he said. He ran a hand through his hair, pulling it off his forehead until it fell from between his fingers, back into place. “Sorry. My issues aren’t—ugh.” Johnny shook his head, then started again. “You just kinda caught me off guard with it, really,” his face twisted into something like a smirk. “I don’t know what I expected from you, but it wasn’t hearing that you let that scrawny little kid into your hole.”_

_“I—what the f—I never said—my_ hole _, what the fuck, dude, none of your business! And—and that’s so_ rude _,_ _man—”_

_Johnny had laughed and turned his back, graciously allowing Mark to flee the whole situation and try to never think about it again._

So, yeah. Another encounter like that one, Mark really might just shrivel up and die. 

But Mark’s home alone. And Yangyang likes this sort of thing. Yangyang is so fucking _chill_ , making it really easy for Mark to just _do_ , just _feel_ , not ponder and overthink and wallow in self-consciousness about everything Mark does literally ever in his life like usual. Yangyang never laughs at him, never makes fun of him or his backwards explanations for some of his weirdest habits, and in return, Mark takes some risks he might not feel comfortable enough to take with someone else.

Mark turns off his brain, with Yangyang. And Yangyang makes it feel simple. All Mark thinks about is how much Yangyang’s going to like it, as he pulls up his camera app and switches it to front cam, groaning at his blushing, puffy face and bedhead and choosing to angle them completely out of frame before looking at them makes him lose this surprising burst of confidence. He kicks his duvet off his body, and in a moment of absolutely incredible brainlessness, hikes his sleep shirt up past his waist and nudges the band of his underwear to rest a little lower on his hips. He snaps a live photo, a few seconds of just his messy bedroom, his messy bed, and his body, arching his ass into the air just enough to show off the dimples in his lower back.

He doesn’t look over the photo before he sends it, feeling the blush in his ears and down his neck at even having _taken_ it, but he launches it full force at Yangyang via iMessage with a little _Home alone~~_ text following right after, both of which get the little _seen_ check instantly. Icing on the humiliation cake. His cheeks feel sunburned.

He’s very quickly reminded, however, of the payoff he gets in return for these risks he takes. His stomach churns with embarrassment as he awaits a reply, but the tight sensation quickly shifts low in his stomach, becomes arousal, interest, when Yangyang rewards him with a picture in return—blurry, obviously taken while he’s in motion, of his crotch, hand gripping his dick through the material of his basketball shorts. _omw_ the text after reads.

Yangyang lives several blocks away, still in student housing with his roommate while Mark managed to score an apartment just off campus with Johnny when the older had started his master’s degree. It usually gives Mark about a half hour before Yangyang shows up, but Mark knows how Yangyang hauls ass when there’s ass waiting for him—he has maybe fifteen minutes before Yangyang gets to the building, and another five for him to climb six sets of stairs up to the floor of their apartment. Mark groans at the ceiling and stretches, feeling his shoulders pop. He wonders if a little cologne will be enough to cover up how he didn’t shower after walking all the way home from class in the summer heat yesterday, just shed his sweaty clothes and flopped into bed with the promise of a day off already lulling him half to sleep. 

Mark licks his hand and sniffs it. Fuck. He needs to at least brush his teeth. He should also probably wash his ass. And he doesn’t have a lot of time to do it, at this point.

_Do you remember the door passcode_ , he texts to Yangyang. Another instant _seen_ check.

_yea_ , Yangyang replies. Mark groans. He can’t even shout _just a minute!_ at the doorbell to buy himself some more time for basic hygiene.

He launches himself out of bed—Johnny would laugh, Mark _does_ laugh at himself and his haste, getting into the bathroom and twisting the shower on to heat up with his glasses still on his face and his phone still in his hand. The humiliation he goes through for dick. For _Yangyang’s dick_ specifically.

Johnny’s somewhat-forced-feeling acceptance of the fuckbuddy status between Mark and Yangyang meant Mark honestly did try to keep the two separate for a time, still generally only letting Yangyang over for sex when Johnny was gone just out of respect for Johnny’s eardrums. It wasn’t a _thing_ , they could see each other, but the tension was a little weird when they did and Mark didn’t want to stir a pot that wasn’t his. Johnny’s gotten better though, and Yangyang’s gotten a little less anxious, and Mark calls it progress. Still, he strips off his clothes and sends one last text, to Johnny, as he brushes his teeth waiting for the warm water— _Hey Yangyang is coming over he might still be here when you get home_ —even though he knows the reply is going to be something equal parts welcoming homeowner and embarrassing older brother. Something like _Offer the boy a beverage and use protection or so help me god!_ Jesus.

Mark buries his phone with his glasses under the pile of clothes on the toilet seat to keep from having to see the text when it comes in. He steps under the water spray, trying to keep his hair dry because he doesn’t have the time to wash it. He also doesn’t have lube in the bathroom per the no-jerking-off-in-communal-areas rule strictly imposed in his and Johnny’s apartment, so he bends slightly at the waist and leans into the cold tile of the wall, bracing his legs open and wincing through having nothing but water to help work a finger, then two, into himself to make sure things are clean and ready down there.

He’s just about to grab some shower gel and wash the remoistened sweat from yesterday off his body, when the door gets thrown wide open and Mark yelps, nearly jumping out of his slippery skin.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” He yells, reverberating on the tile.

“No it’s just me.” Yangyang pants, bracing himself in the doorway and breathing hard, like he just ran several blocks and up six flights of stairs. Huh.

“Hi?!” Mark says loudly, a little indignantly. He cups a hand around his junk not out of shyness, but to protect it from the rapidly cooling air as the bathroom loses its steam with Yangyang holding the door wide open. 

“What are you doing.” Yangyang demands, in lieu of an actual greeting.

“Showering?!” Mark cries. “Dude, close the fucking door, my nuts are gonna end up shrinking inside me, what the fuck—”

Yangyang steps into the bathroom and slams the door behind him. His socks soak through with shower water immediately. He doesn’t seem to notice. He ruffles a few loose sweaty strands of hair off his temples. “Why are you showering.”

“Because I didn’t last night?” God, Mark’s nipples could cut _glass_ right now, and he idly rubs them to warm them up. Yangyang’s eyes follow the gesture. He doesn’t even try to hide that they do. 

“And you want to—” Mark continues, and makes a crude gesture with his hands. “So I kind of wanted to, like, not stink?”

“But I like it when you stink.” Yangyang deadpans.

“ _What_ —fuck, I—sorry?”

“It’s okay, I guess.” Yangyang says mildly, very thoroughly glancing up and down Mark’s dripping wet and stark naked body. “You’re hot as fuck, man. Hurry up, I’ll be in your bedroom sniffing your boxers.” And he actually snatches Mark’s dirty underwear from his pile of clothes and slips out the door, wet socks no doubt leaving footprints down the hall.

Mark lets himself think _what the fuck_ for a moment before he just accepts it and turns off the water. Yangyang can just have him damp and smelling like remoistened stale sweat. He takes his towel from the hook on the wall and just wraps it around his waist, because odds are Yangyang probably wants to lick the sweat water off his skin anyways.

True to his word, Yangyang is lounging in Mark’s single bed with his shirt off, wet socks discarded somewhere unknown—which Mark immediately frets about—basketball short tenting slightly as he uses one hand to press Mark’s briefs firmly to his face. He holds his phone in landscape mode in the other hand.

“Yo, your performance was so cool, man.” Yangyang says, muffled slightly by Mark’s underwear.

“Huh?” The strands of hair that Mark did get wet drip water onto the floor as he swivels his head around in search of the wet socks.

Yangyang turns his phone toward Mark, who squints at the screen. “Your, like, poetry thing,” Yangyang says, and true enough, when Mark steps close enough to be able to see, his own latest slam poetry session is playing with low volume, subtitles on. 

“I think I’m like, at least eighty percent of the views on this video,” Yangyang laughs. “You’re really good. You could probably rap really well if you tried to put your stuff to music.”

Mark chuckles, feels his cheekbones get a little warm. “I’m glad my creative writing major means I can actually, y’know, _write_.”

Yangyang barks a laugh, discarding his phone onto the bedside table and sitting up with his legs dangling off the side of the bed. He reaches for Mark with one grabby hand. “Do you also major in, like, getting me hard? Cause you’re killer at that.”

“Dude, that was so bad.” Mark laughs, but steps into Yangyang’s grasp anyways.

“God, I fucking know,” Yangyang snorts. He slides one hand under the towel, up the back of Mark’s wet thigh, palming the supple swell of his ass, the other hand reaching for where Mark is tightly holding the towel on his hips. He works Mark’s grip off as he kisses Mark’s stomach, just beside his navel. 

Yangyang kisses Mark’s body the same way he smiles—all teeth. He doesn’t waste time before he starts biting a harsh mark into Mark’s stomach, leaving behind a red imprint of his mouth on Mark’s skin.

“Get naked, come on,” Yangyang nips at Mark’s hip. Mark huffs and lets Yangyang pull the towel off and crumple it to the floor, a little shy to be completely bare and on display, standing between Yangyang’s spread legs, but those feelings clear out of his head quickly enough when Yangyang hunches down and nudges Mark’s soft cock to the side with his nose, taking one of his balls gently into his warm, wet mouth. 

Mark sucks a breath in sharply through his teeth, hands coming up to tangle in Yangyang’s overgrown hair, dick immediately starting to fill out where it rests against Yangyang’s sharp cheekbone. Yangyang’s eyelashes flutter, jaw working slowly as he laves his soft tongue across the underside of one testicle, wet with shower water and wetter now with saliva. Mark groans softly as Yangyang sucks, ever so gently, and Yangyang responds by digging his nails into the meat of Mark’s ass and pushing Mark’s crotch tighter to his face.

“Fuck, dude,” Mark whimpers. Yangyang pulls back to switch balls, a string of saliva still connecting him to the first one, nuzzling Mark’s dick softly before he dives back in. The feeling is like amber across his skin, slow, sluggish pleasure, dripping and pulsing through him, overheating him under Yangyang’s gentle attention on the most sensitive part of his body.

Mark cradles the nape of Yangyang’s neck with his fingers, hands shaking ever so slightly as pleasure licks up his spine with every gentle stroke of Yangyang’s tongue. “I— _oh_ ,” he stammers. “Fuck, I—I fingered myself in the shower a bit, for—for you, _shit_.”

Yangyang pulls away like he means to respond to that, but becomes momentarily preoccupied with sucking the beading precome from the slit of Mark’s cock, and Mark in turn becomes momentarily preoccupied with keeping his knees from buckling.

“Cool,” Yangyang says, when his mouth finally parts from Mark’s genitals. “Wanna sixty nine first? If you’re on top I can open you up like that.”

Mark hums, leaning his head back as arousal makes his ears ring. “Yeah, fuck. Let’s do it.”

Yangyang shifts himself to lay on his side near the edge of the bed, Mark diving over him onto the far side, worming himself right up close to the heat of Yangyang’s back and sliding his hands under his basketball shorts.

“Dude,” Mark laughs incredulously, with a handful of almost fully hard dick, “did you freeball it here?”

“Yeah,” Yangyang grunts, rifling around the drawer of Mark’s bedside table, eventually procuring a nearly empty squeeze bottle of lube. He whacks it harshly on the table to get the gel to settle closer to the cap, then flips onto his back on the pillow, reaching down to tug at Mark’s leg. “C’mere, get this ass over my face already.”

Mark giggles, settles himself gingerly with his knees braced on either side of Yangyang’s head by his crown, forearms flat beside each of Yangyang’s slender thighs. Yangyang grabs his hips and manhandles him into position, getting to work almost immediately, guiding Mark’s cock into his mouth with the gentle touch of a single finger on the shaft and using his tongue on the head to grind the frenulum to the textured roof of his mouth. Mark sucks in a sharp breath, tries not to get too lost in the pleasure Yangyang so effortlessly gives him, expertly toying with Mark's body, when he's supposed to be reciprocating at the same time.

Mark likes this—likes the angle, especially. Yangyang’s cock curves upward just slightly, and positioned like this, Mark can push the boundaries of his throat a lot easier. Yangyang is hard by now, shaft arching off his abdomen as Mark nips softly at the light trail of hair beneath Yangyang’s navel, just to see his stomach muscles tense, then grips firmly around the shaft, just under the head, working Yangyang’s foreskin back and forth gently, pressure rhythmic over the swell of the head. Yangyang groans below him, the shock of vibration rocking up Mark’s body and making his spine bow, dipping low, abdomen touching Yangyang’s below him. Yangyang takes Mark arching as an opportunity to reach up and around Mark’s hip to rub two fingers across his hole, touch feeling amplified against the skin, tender from Mark’s harsh treatment earlier.

Mark leans his mouth in and swirls his tongue under the foreskin once, feels Yangyang jerk under him in the way the motion always affects him, then pulls the foreskin back and slides Yangyang as far down his throat as he can go. Yangyang responds with a sharp, muffled moan, and the sound of the lube snapping open, then a drizzle of cold directly over Mark’s hole.

“ _Mmh_ ,” Mark pulls back, kisses the spit off Yangyang’s slit. “Fuck, it’s cold.”

“Sorry,” Yangyang lets Mark’s dick pop free from his mouth. “Here, shift a bit, let me—” He uses his grip on Mark’s ass to rock his body forward, getting a clearer view of his hole, then spits across it, warm saliva to oppose the chill of the lube. “Better?”

Mark buries his flaming face in the crease between Yangyang’s thigh and groin and groans loudly. His dick jolts sharply and he can tell Yangyang notices it by how he chuckles softly. The spit and lube drips, warm and cold at once, down Mark’s taint and over the tight skin of his balls, making him shiver and whimper and feel so, so dirty.

“Ah,” Yangyang breathes. “A lot better, then.” And he spits across Mark’s hole again. 

Mark thinks he’s gonna black out. He chokes himself on Yangyang’s cock again to try and mask the embarrassing whine that works its way up his throat as Yangyang fucks his spit into Mark’s hole with his middle finger, sliding in all the way to the knuckle with no resistance. 

“Mmm, _fuck_ ,” Yangyang groans, low and drawn out. “You open up so fucking easy.”

Mark starts nursing on the head of Yangyang’s cock like butterscotch candy, licking precome out of the slit like it’s sweet, working his foreskin back and forth and feeling it glide under his swollen lips. “ _Mm-hm_ ,” he hums mindlessly.

“I’m gonna give you another, okay?”

Mark hums again, breathing stuttering as Yangyang slides his ring finger in, slick and warm, his fingers long and slender, a barely there stretch just shy of being satisfying, gentle as he works Mark loose. 

“You think we should come like this first?” Yangyang asks, voice heavy in his throat.

“ _Ah_ —no, no,” Mark mumbles, lips soaking wet on the crown of Yangyang’s dick, spit starting to slide across his knuckles as he works him. “We can just— _ah_ —just go again after if you wanna come twice.”

Yangyang hums idly, bites another mark into the meat of Mark’s inner thigh beside his head as he teases, works his fingers in and out, toying with the tip of a third finger at Mark’s rim. “Cool. I really like fucking you, Mark.”

Mark giggles. “I really like how you fuck.”

Yangyang outright laughs. “Okay, okay,” he slides his fingers out of Mark’s hole, slaps Mark’s ass with his lube slick hand. “How do you want it, then?”

Mark flops gracelessly onto his side, leaking cock slapping against his stomach, flipping himself the right way around on the bed, facedown. He curls his arms under his pillow, tilting his hips sideways and straightening one leg, propping the other up close to his chest and offering up his lube slick hole to Yangyang, kneeling watching him on the edge of the bed by his outstretched knee.

“Okay, yeah,” Yangyang smiles, smiles that wide, toothy grin, boyish and dazed with his eyes puffy and half-lidded, lips red and puffy even though Mark hasn’t even had the chance to make out with him yet. “I vibe with this.” He palms Mark’s ass for a reverent moment, then retrieves his phone from the nightstand, pops the case off to fish the condom out from where he always keeps one tucked in the back. Mark settles himself with his face squished into the pillow, fully prepared to start biting it if his noises get too embarrassing, but with his face tilted out enough to watch Yangyang over his shoulder, see him slipping the condom out of the foil packet, dropping it into the mess of bedsheets under him, swearing softly, finding it, and finally working his foreskin back just slightly to roll the condom comfortably down his length. He grabs more lube, squirting a stripe down the entire length of his dick, _way_ too much, spreading it around with two fingers to keep from being too messy before things actually get good.

Yangyang shifts closer, straddling Mark’s outstretched leg and steadying himself with a hand against the pillow right by Mark’s face, so he can dip his head low and press his tongue to where sweat had begun to dew on the nape of Mark’s neck.

Mark lifts his hips invitingly at the feelings of the blunt head of Yangyang’s cock sliding against his hole, relaxes so Yangyang can easily slide inside, all the way in on the first push. Yangyang isn’t big by any means, isn’t any kind of incredible stretch, but he’s a comfortable and satisfying weight that presses into Mark and fills him up just right, no pain, no need to adjust, just a sudden feeling of being filled and taken and desperately needing to be fucked good.

Yangyang licks behind Mark’s ear. “Alright?”

“ _Uh_ ,” Mark whines messily, droll already collecting at his lips. He flexes his ass, forcing a punched-out sounding moan to come from deep in Yangyang’s chest. 

“Yeah, man,” Mark murmurs. “Go for it.”

Yangyang hums into his neck, starting with an easy glide, long, slow strokes that make Mark melt boneless into the bed. It’s nothing earth-shattering, but Yangyang commands all of Mark’s focus, enthralling him with how it feels to have something inside, the heavy drag of a cock on his walls, his rim getting steadily looser, more accepting of Yangyang forcing his body to make room for him. This is Mark’s favourite part—these moments where his breathing stutters and his eyelashes flutter, and Yangyang is still moving slow enough that Mark can kiss him.

Yangyang kisses Mark’s mouth the same way he smiles—all teeth. He bites at the swell of Mark’s lips as he rocks into his body, scrapes his teeth along the curve of his cupid’s bow then licks it to soothe the sting, sucks saliva off his tongue to swallow it down with a gracious nip. Yangyang is so thoroughly incapable of being _normal_ in any facet, and his kisses are no exception, dirty and wet and making an absolute mess of Mark’s mouth, making Mark shiver with arousal, stomach clenching with need.

“God, _fuck_ ,” Mark whines into Yangyang’s mouth, gets a tongue licking behind his teeth in response, grazing the ridges of his permanent retainer.

“I am,” Yangyang kisses the words sloppily into Mark’s bottom lip, rocking his cock as deep into Mark as it will go.

Mark arches his back to meet a couple of his slow, methodic thrusts, goosebumps breaking out across his skin. It’s enough, barely, and his aching cock begs for more.

He must whine hard enough for it without realizing, because Yangyang parts from Mark’s lax mouth by spitting across his tongue—saliva that Mark savours on his tongue with a truly embarrassing sob—then grunting and pulling back onto his knees, using one hand in the curve of Mark’s bent knee to hike it up higher to Mark’s chest, the other grabbing at the crease of Mark’s hip, using it as leverage to pull Mark’s body roughly into every stroke as he picks up the pace of his hips, plowing harshly into him, motion so sudden and jarring it sends Mark’s head spinning.

Without Yangyang’s mouth to occupy him, Mark muffles himself by biting down on the heel of his palm, cries hidden but drool leaking down his wrist, so he can twist his head to watch Yangyang fuck him through the cloudy haze of his vision. Sometimes he wishes Yangyang would fuck him with his glasses on, so he could actually _see_ , clearly, beyond the fuzz of his poor eyesight, how Yangyang looks when he really _fucks_ Mark—Yangyang’s bangs, shoved off his forehead before, strands now falling loosely into his dark, focused eyes, sweat-damp, his mouth slightly ajar, tongue peeking out at the corner as he pants, focuses on the rolling rhythm of his hips, blush from exertion colouring his cheeks, and his collarbones dewy with sweat. The strain of repetitive motion has his abs just barely visible, the top few flexing just under the visible ridges of his ribcage, and the defined jut of muscle at his hips prominent every time he drives wetly into Mark. The sound of their bodies meeting is wet and filthy, Yangyang’s overuse of lube completely apparent. 

“Fuck,” Mark whines. “ _Fuck_ , Yangyang, oh my _god_.”

“Yeah,” Yangyang pants back, voice rough and low in his throat. “Yeah, _fuck_ , you’re always so tight, feels so fucking good.”

“Jesus,” Mark rolls his head back, sweat sliding from his hairline down his jaw. 

“Here, come here, fuck,” Yangyang stills his hips pressedly tightly inside Mark, snug against his walls where they’re throbbing and sensitive. He manhandles Mark by twisting his leg over, rolling him onto his back with his knee up to his chest, body spread and open.

Mark moans sharply—he knows where this is going. Yangyang angles his hips perfectly parallel to Mark’s, the upward curve of his dick positioned perfectly to abuse Mark’s prostate.

“You good?” Yangyang murmurs. He rubs the hand not holding Mark’s leg up on the soft skin of Mark’s stomach, plush to the touch from his body being folded up like origami. 

Mark hum dazedly against his palm, uncaring how wet it is with his own spit, how messy his face no doubt is. “I’m about to be.”

Yangyang snickers. “Yeah, you are. Can I have your hand?”

Yangyang takes Mark’s wet palm and directs it to cradle his jaw just slightly, tongue peeking out to lick the saliva from the heel. He hums happily as he smears Mark’s wet hand on his face.

“Fuck, so messy,” he murmurs. He rolls his hips gently a few times as he sucks the wetness from Mark’s wrist, a haf-mindless motion that still manages to send shocks through Mark’s body, twitching and moaning uninhibited now that he has nothing to occupy his mouth with.

“I’ll finish you like this, okay?” Yangyang says, lips soaked.

“ _Please_ ,” Mark whimpers.

Yangyang groans, brow furrowing, immediately starts working his hips like he means it, fucking into Mark with a tight back and forth motion, sharp and fast, spiking pleasure through Mark. He won’t last like this, he never does, the feeling of Yangyang sliding harshly against all the right places overwhelming, moans breaking into stuttering whines and then into sobs as electricity shocks through his body, closer and closer still but not quite able to get there with one hand still occupied by Yangyang’s tongue, and the other trapped on the other side of his contorted leg.

“Yangyang— _Yangyang_ , fuck, god, _please_ —”

“Yeah, okay, fuck,” Yangyang directs his and Mark’s hand from his mouth and toward Mark’s cock, leaking pitifully and throbbing, twining their fingers together and sliding Mark’s cock between their palms, jerking him off together. The jostling of Mark’s body from Yangyang’s thrusts has his cock rocking into their grip, the steady working of Yangyang inside him short circuiting his whole body.

“ _Close_ ,” Mark whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut, throwing his head back. “So close, so close, almost.”

“Yeah?” Yangyang works his hips harsher, if it was even possible. Mark lets out a strangled sob, whole body live wire, leg shaking under Yangyang’s grip and heart threatening to beat out of his chest. His dick jerks sharply in their clasped hands, Yangyang’s cock an incessant pressure against his prostate, every motion forcing him closer, closer. Yangyang’s words push him closer, make his ears ring, his eyes burning with desperate tears. “You gonna come— _fuck_ —gonna come around me? You get so fucking tight, feels so good, come on, let me feel it—”

Mark yells, then clamps his teeth down on his bottom lip to whine pitifully as his orgasm rips through him, sharp and burning and spreading through his body like molten glass in his veins, hot and searing under his skin. Yangyang fucks him through it, strokes long and agonizing as Mark’s walls tighten around him, body bending over Mark’s and sweaty bangs tickling his neck as Yangyang’s muscles clench when he comes shortly after, gasping once before holding his breath as the sensation washes through him, both of them left panting against each other’s body, intertwined.

Yangyang squeezes Mark’s hand where their fingers are still locked around Mark’s dick, and Mark’s whole body jerks. Yangyang giggles,nuzzles his face in Mark’s sweaty collarbone.

“Fuck,” Mark groans, “need to stretch out my leg.”

“Hold up,” Yangyang lifts himself back up. His eyes have lost their dark precision, now just puffy and sleepy looking, lips lax and looking so, so kissable. “You know the drill.”

Mark sighs and lets his body fall loose and limp. Yangyang likes to bask in the oversensitivity after an orgasm, so Mark lets him pull long whines and shuddering gasps out of his throat as Yangyang drags himself slowly in and out of his hole, his own hands shaking and twitching where they hold Mark’s thighs spread so he can lean back and watch where their bodies meet. He’s so sensitive it almost hurts, and Mark wonders if it’s the same for Yangyang, but he lets himself relax and be toyed with for a few moments, doesn’t even pout when Yangyang traces a gentle, come-covered thumb over his stretched, abused rim, puffy and fucked on Yangyang’s softening cock.

Eventually he pulls himself free for the last time, breath hitching on a pained moan as he slips the head free from the tight clench of Mark’s ass, loose and pink. Mark idly plays with the come congealing on his hand and stomach to keep it from solidifying.

“You want a washcloth?” Yangyang murmurs softly, standing. His back turns to Mark, hip cocked and ass perky as he pulls the condom off and ties it, gently setting it on top of the near overflowing garbage pile in the trash can beside Mark’s desk.

“Nah,” Mark says, having to fight back a yawn as he talks. His orgasm still simmers in his body, weighing him down and slipping him into unconsciousness already. “Just grab my boxers, we can wipe off with those.”

Yangyang chuckles. “Can I take them home with me later?” 

Mark scrunches his nose. “Yeah, man, just bring them back clean when you can.”

“Word,” Yangyang swipes Mark’s underwear for the second time that day, wiping lube off his groin and upper thighs first, clambering back on the bed to do a nice, efficient wipe down for Mark, swiping the fabric gently up his ass and across his hole, harshly around his dick just to chuckle at how Mark jumps, then smearing and mopping up across him tummy and fingers.

“All good?” Yangyang mumbles sleepily, post-orgasm daze starting to wash through him too. He has the kindness to fold the come-soaked parts of the briefs into the middle so they don’t stick to the floor when he dumps them off the side of the bed again. Mark’s honestly still a little sticky, which is going to turn crusty quick, but he’s too sleepy to care, so he just nods and grabs Yangyang by the wrist to pull him down beside him in bed. 

Yangyang nuzzles right up against his back, arm around his waist and nose in the nape of his neck, inhaling deeply the scent of sweat and sex lingering on Mark’s skin.

“Is it cool if I’m still here when Johnny gets back?” Yangyang murmurs.

“Mm?” Mark groans. “Oh, yeah, yeah, don’t worry.”

“Are you sure?” Yangyang snuggles tighter into Mark’s body. “I don’t wanna, like—I don’t know—”

“It’s okay,” Mark whispers sleepily. He dopely reaches an arm back to pet Yangyang’s sweaty hair. Yangyang licks at his neck softly.

“Promise?” Yangyang asks.

Mark fights to blink his eyes open, just enough to get his brain to focus. “Yeah, I—” he pauses to clear the roughness out of his throat. “I know it seems, like, weird, but he’s okay. We can all split pizza tonight and bond, or something, tonight. If you wanna.”

Yangyang just breathes quietly for a moment. “Okay,” he says, finally.

“Okay,” Mark says. “And then you can suck my dick with your pizza breath mouth after he goes to bed.”

Yangyang snorts. “Okay,” he says, much more enthusiastically.

There. Crisis averted. Mark settles into Yangyang’s body, and the two of them settle into their mandatory post-fuck nap, and Johnny can just settle for having a bit of a noisy night.

**Author's Note:**

> just a couple dudes being guys, being buddies, being pals. sucking nuts is a bro activity right?
> 
> i hope you enjoyed :) if you did don't be shy, let me know
> 
> come say hi on [twitter](https://twitter.com/minhyungsmommy) or [curiouscat!](https://curiouscat.qa/yourobdtst) if you already follow me on twitter you may have noticed some details from my recent deranged yangyang tweets made their way into this fic, so maybe that was fun for you!
> 
> stay safe! <3


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